A Muggle's point of view
by windows fail maker
Summary: Sometimes I wonder if Hermione ever told her friends that she had a sister.


**Hi guys **** I read somewhere that JK Rowling originally planned for Hermione to have a younger sister, but it was too late in the books to put her in. I thought I'd use the idea of that and try to be creative with it :D Hope you like it!**

I may be a muggle, but I know nearly everything about witchcraft and wizardry off by heart. I was never allowed to watch any of the spells taking place, but I've seen pictures in newspapers and textbooks and figured out for myself how things work. I know all about the memory charm, Obliviate. I've read that once It's been performed on someone, they lose much of a particular memory and if it's performed well, the victim will never be able to remember again and there's no way of getting the lost memories back. I'm certain that the lines in that particular book were wrong, because I _can_ remember.

I remember when my sister Hermione got her Hogwarts acceptance letter when she was 11. My parents were so amazed at her and I'd begged and begged and begged to come along too, but I was told 'Wait a few more years, Abby. Maybe you'll get a letter too!'

But my letter never came.

It eventually made sense to me about Hermione being a witch. When we were little, Mum would dress us in these horrible frilly stupid dresses, and all the kids would pick on me, but not Hermione because hers would always end up looking normal somehow and she'd just look like an ordinary kid, while I stuck out like a sore thumb.

If the hairdressers botched up our hair, Hermione would wake up the next day and hers would look perfectly fine again, while I was stuck with a page-boy bob cut.

Hermione never had to deal with bullies, or ugly haircuts, or sticky situations because she was lucky. Her magic kicked in when she was really young and she was always able to get out of things.

It wasn't fair. I went to school, I did all my work, I got good marks too. I was always top of the whole class. I was smart, but so was Hermione. The idea of Hogwarts was so surreal to my parents and they always made the biggest fuss over every little thing Hermione did, so all my efforts were ignored and I sometimes wondered why I even bothered trying. Don't get me wrong, I appreciated my big sister too. I was so fascinated by all the differences between the two worlds and Hermione would always let me read through all her textbooks and she would always give me old copies of the daily prophet when she was finished with them. I knew everything that was going on in her world. I knew all about the Ministry of Magic, all the Hogwarts subjects, Professor Dumbledore, Lord Voldemort and the famous Harry Potter. Hermione always talked about him, and Ron Weasley. They were her best friends. She talked about her other friends too, but I never got to meet any of them, so I could only really tell what they were like from all the pictures. Sometimes I wondered if Hermione even told them that she had a sister.

Her life always seemed so much better than mine. I didn't really have many friends at my Muggle high school and I always had to make up lies about where my sister was and why she didn't go to school at the same place as me. I was relieved when Hermione got to come home and spend the holidays with Mum, Dad and I.

But then she started acting weird.

The Holidays always meant new wizarding newspapers and books that I got to read, but this time Hermione said she didn't have any. She acted weird toward all of us and barely even left her room, only coming out for a meal or two through the day. I tried talking to her but she had just become so closed off with me. It depressed me to the point that I just didn't bother anymore. Maybe I'd be grateful when Hermione went back for her last year of Hogwarts because if she left, the mopey presence would finally be out of the house.

I was sitting on the lounge watching T.V with my parents and it was just an ordinary day, I was in a decent mood and everything was fine. Then I went to the toilet, and on the way I could hear Hermione coming out of her room so I smiled and hoped it meant that she was going to join us. When I came out and saw her with her wand pointed at Mum and Dad, I knew that watching the movie with us wasn't what she intended to do. I saw the last of some green light coming out of the wand and I screamed. I didn't hear what spell she used… but green light? Avada Kedavra? Did she kill them?

She spun around and stared at me in shock, obviously not expecting me to have been there. Then to my horror, her wand raised at me before I had a chance to do anything and the last word I ever heard come out of her mouth was 'Obliviate.'

Now I'm sitting in my room in Australia. Mum and Dad are making dinner together in the kitchen. I know they don't remember anything. They don't remember that they ever had another daughter. Hermione is gone from all the old photos in the albums. Magically disappeared.

I tried to help them remember. I tried talking about Hogwarts and the wizarding world and telling stories that Hermione used to tell, trying to jot the memory of their daughter but it never came back to them. They thought I was going crazy and I learnt not to mention it again because I knew I'd be taken away and put somewhere.

Sometimes on bad days, I wonder if I really am crazy. Maybe something might have happened to me when I was little and it's just made me conjure up random crazy worlds with my imagination. Maybe I wanted a sister so much that I just created my own, and she brought her bizarre world with her. I think of all these possibilities but I can never actually force myself to believe them to be true.

I'll probably never know why Hermione did what she did, or if she's ever going to come back to us again, but I try to keep my memories of Hermione alive in my own head. I search for traces of magic wherever I go. Every time I meet someone a little out of the ordinary, I check for magical qualities about them, but I try to be subtle about it. On the outside, I live my life as Dorothy Wilkins from Australia, the only daughter of Wendell and Monica Wilkins… But I will never forget who I am on the inside. I'm Abby Granger, a Muggle girl from England. I'll never forget who I really am, and no matter how much time passes, I will never forget my sister Hermione.


End file.
